poetry - jack sender - all of my life
4:30 or so on an otherwise peaceful morning
... i laughed once out loud ... loud.
i was sleeping when i woke up to laugh.
what i was dreaming escapes me,
but it sure must have been funny.
i do a night time laugh about twice a year.
not sad to report.
the day could be special.
i just thought of Ethel Swanbeck
our long term representative in the state's House of Representatives
lived in our little town, House member for eleven consecutive terms
from 1955 to 1972.
she was a fine lady.
Her grandson Ray and i were at
the state House one afternoon and
we're introduced before
the assembly. remembering Ethel
made the day special.
the Mid-Twentieth Century,
and our time was special.
she made it so.
Monday the third, yesterday ... that's the easy part.
on that lot no one's forgotten, the workers are back in a giant yellow truck.
they're going to begin digging a crawling space
below a house that is yet to be built.
a mouse can stay there for now.
a house will be built over the hole later.
i've seen the workers do it before;
once they get started there's no stopping them.
They are six hundred meters from my window. I can't tell if any of the three workers are women.
At this distance they are green pants, green shirts and hoodies ... right, green.
They look tough. There are no subtle curves.
and you're right, Monday was yesterday and yesterday's gone.
